Three Second Glimpse
by TheWholeDamnTime
Summary: After the new AoS teaser came out, I wandered through all of the Tumblr posts speculating what was going on during the three seconds of new FitzSimmons footage. Thus, I'm writing up one-shots about all of the possibilities that exist. Comments and critiques are the best present ever so please don't hesitate to tell me anything! Thank you for reading! Thanks to verbivore8642!
1. Theory 1: Memory Issues

Fitz slammed his hands onto the edge of the counter.

"Simmons, _I can't remember!_" he growled through gritted teeth. "It's not in there, some thing's _wrong_, it's-" He let his voice break of into a sigh. Jemma glanced around the lab momentarily, then moved to place her hands on his shoulder blades, fingers curling around the top.

"Shhh," she whispered in her calming, soft tones. "It's okay. Don't try and force it."

"No, it's _not!_" He almost swept his arm along the counter, wanting for everything to smash to the ground. He needed the noise, needed the harsh tones of destruction in his ears, needed some kind of control over the world around him. But he didn't. His partner's thumbs gently ran circles on his back.

"It's okay, Fitz. You don't have to know it. You remember most of your past, and we're patching the holes. One name isn't that big."

"But it's _your_ name." Simmons could feel the tears starting to prick at her eyes, sinuses beginning to swell with the need to sob. "Simmons, I've lived with you for almost half my life. You're- you're always beside me, and I _should_ be able to remember your name-" he snapped, fists grabbing at the edge of the table so hard the knuckles turned white.

"Leo." He turned around, his partner's hands falling away. Her eyes were cast down, head tilted so she didn't have to look at him. "You remember my name." There was a pause as she sniffed.

"You scream it every night."

* * *

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_She was standing on a ledge, cloudy sky rushing past behind her and hair whipped in a frenzy around her face. His name was on her lips as she tumbled back into the blue. A flash, and she was throwing herself to cover a bomb, only this one went off with a splattering of blood and a splintering of bone. He heard screaming and it vaguely occurred to him that it might be himself. Her screaming, battered face glowing in watery light as he was struck, then choked into blackness._

He wakes up sputtering, coughing imaginary water from his lungs.

Simmons is rushing in the door, clothing rumpled and askew and hair bent at odd angles. She's grabbing his shoulders as he pushes himself into the corner of his bunk, knuckles turning white around sheets. Sitting down in front of him with gentle eyes and running her hands down his arms. He sees her lips moving, but can't hear over the ringing in his ears, the echoes of the screams. She's grabbing at his hands and pulling them to her chest, just at her collarbone so she can rest her chin on the bundle as his labored breathing slows. The ringing begins to fade with the panic.

"You okay?" she whispers, lips barely moving with the words. He can only dip his head a little, and she brings their bundle of hands down from where she was holding them. As she's detangling her fingers, he wonders if he should have said no just to get her to stay. Just for a little longer.

All of his worry vanishes as she scoots forward and wraps her arms around his midsection. She's holding him tight, and he folds his lanky limbs around her in return. They stay like that a moment, and he can't help himself.

"Stay?" It was no more than a breath, but he could still feel her stiffen under his fingers. But then she softened again, and nodded against his chest. Slowly, he leaned back onto the bed so that she was half on his chest, still wrapped around him. Gravity shifted her more to his side so he was spooning her, arm tucked around her form and bodies pressed together. "Goodnight, Jemma," he sighed.

She suddenly stiffened against him. It took him a moment, but realization struck him like a blow to the head. "Oh, Jemma," he murmured, burrowing his head into her shoulder, "when will you stop being right?" He could practically feel her smile radiating through the room.

"I told you that you didn't have to force it," she murmured in a voice as warm as tea. "Leopold Fitz, you silly, silly man…" With that, she turned over and tucked her head into his shoulder, breathing slowing to a steady rhythm. His soon followed and they fell asleep together in a messy, comforting tangle.


	2. Theory 2: Betrayal

Jemma walked in front of Leo, tears held in pools in her eyes. She didn't allow them to fall, dabbing slightly with her sleeve as they made their way to the lab, but keeping them under control. She led him inside and settled against a counter, keeping her breathing level.

"Fitz, how far back do you remember?" He was looking at her, studying her face. The biochemist knew she probably looked horrible. Time and stress had carved bags under her eyes and given an almost sickly pallor to her skin. "Leo?" It was his first name that prompted it, the signal that things weren't okay and she needed him right then because things _were not okay_.

"We got back- the plane was gone. It was, just, um, gone, and the base was empty. And… Something about pancakes… And…" His brow furrowed in frustration and he used tight fists to rub at his eyes. "God, it just gets fuzzy," he muttered. Simmons swallowed, hard, remembering the fiasco had broken out moments later.

"This- this is going to be quite a bit to take in, I'm afraid," she said in a small voice, almost fearing what was to come.

"See, I- well, I went to go get some mix, for the pancakes, a-and you went to the bathroom, to wash up. Well, there was a screwdriver stuck in the window rolls, and you pulled it out." She took another deep breath, and his brow knotted further with concern. "S-Skye had left a message, carved into the screen." This was it. She knew it was, and every nerve was a live wire, waiting for something to happen.

"It said, 'Ward is HYDRA'." Leo tensed immediately, eyes going just ever so slightly wide. There was a tense moment, devoid of sound or movement as she let it sink in, let the truth penetrate his heart like a dagger. Finally, he spoke a single, ragged, breathy word.

"No." Jemma's hand moved to cover her mouth as more tears rushed to her eyes. "No, he can't be," he echoed, voice still tight and painful.

"He _was_, Fitz," she choked out. "I- when I went into the storage room, I- I found A-a-agent Koenig. He was asphyxiated by W-ward."

There was a pause.

"No. No, Ward wouldn't do that. He- he had to have been controlled. Someone was forcing him. He would never- no. No, he's not HYDRA." Jemma felt tears unwillingly slipping down her cheeks. "He can't be HYDRA!"

"After that, Coulson managed to get Skye," she continued, voice a whisper, hand on his shoulder. "We began to track the plane, try and get one step ahead of Garett. The others went to go and enact a hack with Skye, and we found it, just the two of us." Another deep breath, and his arms moved so that his hands covered hers. "We were going to just try and track it, but Ward, h-h-he found us, a-and brought us in. Y-you used a-an EMP and we ran into- into a storage pod. We locked it, and Ward was trying to get us, and then he- he dropped the pod out of the airplane." Jemma let out a single sob before continuing. "We s-sank, Fitz. W-w-we were at the- the bottom, a-a-and y-y-you sacrificed yourself so I could get out alive, Fitz, and I- I pulled you w-w-with m-me a-and-"

And then everything seemed to happen at once.

"_Goddammit!_" An arm swept a variety of things off the counter as he screamed, clattering to the floor.

He slammed his hands into the table and Jemma's eyes raked over the surrounding area before she rushed to him and threw her arms around his torso. She couldn't take the same destruction that had happened before. Not here, not after everything. His fists were clenched, jaw clenched shut. He needed to release this horrendous feeling bubbling inside of him, this fury, this betrayal. He needed the shattering of glass and the clanging of bent metal, the sounds of destruction ringing in his ears to drown out the truth, that horrible, painful truth. But her arms around him took off the edge. He could feel each breath she took tremble and knew he couldn't break down. _Do it for her_.

"How could he, Jemma? He was our _friend_." He sounded so broken, voice cracking on the final word.

"I don't know, Leo," she whispered into his shoulder. "I don't know." Another pause filled the air around them as labored breathing slowed. Jemma still had her arms around him, holding onto her partner as if he was her lifeline. Her cheek was pressed to his shoulder and tears caught themselves on the fabric. A small damp spot began to appear and grew as the minutes passed.

After another moment, Fitz's arms gently tugged on her own. She released him slowly, cautiously, and took a single step back. After a breath, her partner turned around to reveal a face as tear-streaked as her own. Wordlessly, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She returned the gesture, reaching up to thread her arms around his neck. Face buried in his sweater, she let herself choke out another sob as they held each other together.

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That night, they lay together in Leo's bunk, arms and legs tangled, taking in each other's presence for comfort. As long as the other was there, they would pull through.

Together, Fitzsimmons would always turn out alright.


	3. Theory 3: Twist

Leo wandered into the lab. Jemma was working away in her own half of the lab, wrapped up in some kind of official mission work. The engineer, on the other hand, had been assigned absolutely nothing. Instead, he settled on a stool to watch her work her magic.

_I'm not Hermione_, her voice echoed in his memory, bringing a small smile to his lips. On that train of thought, he began to polish the ICER, a light smile playing over his face.

They worked companionably as they usually did, bustling around the lab and completing their tasks one by one. Hours spun by on the clock, only stopping for lunch at exactly 12:30 and resuming just before the clock struck 1 o'clock.

The door slid open and the resident hacktivist wandered into the lab, arms loaded with her laptop and several other gadgets, ranging from com systems to a hair curler. Simmons continued to bestle around her work station, which was now emitting a slight hissing noise from the chemicals.

"So Fitz-" she started. "Oh, I mean, Skye. Hello there," she stuttered awkwardly.

"It's fine, Simmons," replied the hacker with a soft smile. "Just came down to tell you that we're all moving our stuff into these base. Guess we're rooming here for the, as AC/DC put it, 'foreseeable future'. Just so you know, and all." Jemma flashed her a grateful glance and continued to manipulate her solution, ceasing the hissing noise after a few more moments.

"Well, I'm out," Skye said, excusing herself.

"See you later, then," replied Simmons. Leo fiddled with one of the DWARFs, hands still shaking and grasping only with great difficulty. Suddenly, as he tightened a screw, the jittering sent it crashing to the counter, startling his partner and nearly sending the chemical solution completely off the counter, had it not been for a quick save on Jemma's part. Quiet, she placed the beaker on a more secure location and took a long, wavering breath.

"Oh, this is all my fault," whispered the biochemist.

"I don't blame you," Fitz replied, his words soft on the air.

"It's all because of me."

"No, of course it isn't. I _chose_ this."

"It should have been me."

He slammed his hands into the counter, a plethora of curse words springing to mind but not quite suiting the situation. "**_Goddammit_**, Simmons, why don't you hear me?!" he roared. She sighed and put her face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Jemma," he breathed. Silence wrapped around them and they each turned back to their own counters and individual work.

After another hour or two, he watched as his partner stood and stretched. Now was usually about the time where she would wander the base and he'd return to his room for a bit, just as a break from all the work. Today, though, he followed her down the hall and into the medical wing. He hovered near the entrance but didn't step inside, instead choosing to watch as Simmons approached the hospital bed. A patient sat there, hooked to wires and electrodes, needles and IVs.

Wrapping her hands around his, she whispered to the comatose form, "I miss you, Leo."

And he watched from the doorway as she cried.


	4. Theory 4: Trigger

Jemma laid out the outfit, swallowing hard as she looked at the fabrics she had ever-so-nearly died in. Triggers were her best option at this point, and to be quite honest, she was getting desperate.

His memories were spotty. He couldn't remember most of the chitauri virus, bits and pieces of most missions, as well as everything that had happened as soon as they had been captured by Ward.

The scientist was determined to focus on one event at a time. First up, in her mind, was the virus. She could trigger visual memories, and possibly audio and vocal recognition. Straightening her sweater a bit, she put her chin up and headed out of her bunk.

Fitz was working when she arrived. His head was bent and he greeted her without a glance up, fingers pulling and twisting at the tiny device in his hands. She returned the hello and went about her own work, throwing questions and comments back and forth as they usually did.

It was a good hour into the day when he stood up, turned to look to where she was tending to the lab rats, and dropped the (thankfully inactive) prototype. Her head jerked upright as the clattering reached her ears.

"Fitz?" He stumbled at her words, balance off and terrifying Simmons. His hands struck the counter and his breathing was hard, heavy as he gripped the edge.

"You almost died." She looked around the room, praying not to see anyone. She saw Coulson round a corner and stop dead, then nearly run from the scene. _Good_. No one was there to ruin anything.

"You almost killed yourself, Jemma, right there." His arm was thrown up and wavered in the air, finger accusing the loading ramp.

"Oh god, Jem, you almost _died_."

"So did you." He glanced up at her, then cringed away as though her face only wounded him further.

"Jemma- you- falling- the virus- oh my god," he panted. Like he was a wounded animal, Simmons took a small step forward and lightly placed one of her hands over his.

"Fitz, I'm here," she whispered. "Yes, I almost died, but I'm okay. Just like you."

"Oh my god," he breathed.

"Leo?" He glanced up at her. "How much do you remember?"

"Just- just the chitauri virus. The firefighters, you contracting it, trying to find a cure, the fire- oh my god, Jemma, you hit me in the back of the head with a fire extinguisher." A bit of bubbly laughter escaped the biochemist's lips. "Hey, it's not funny!"

"Of course you remember the fire extinguisher, Fitz. You were _ever_ so indignant about that." Even he cracked a small smile at that, shaking his head slightly.

"Jemma," he sighed, enunciating every syllable and drawing out the name in exasperation.

"Well, you remember now. _And_ we know that visual triggers seem to work for certain events." Grinning, she practically skipped back to her work while Leo muttered something about _"too bloody peppy"_ and _"sure, club me with a metal cylinder and laugh"_. "Now all we have to do is find the triggers for the rest of your memories." The engineer scrunched up his face and rubbed at his eyes, smile barely teasing the edges of his lips.

"Goddammit, Simmons. Don't you ever-"

"Oh, don't you go acting as though you didn't try and do the exact same thing-"

"-and dangerous, and you're not even cleared for combat-"

"-and your _stupid_ self-sacrificing without even considering that I-"

"-plus, we _had_ the cure already-"

"-not even _trying_ to look for another way out-"

"-and just plain stupid."

"-idiotic." There was a moment of silence.

"Jemma, I couldn't keep going without you, you know." The biochemist let out a long sigh, leaning forward on the counter as if to hide.

"Leo, you act as if I don't feel the same," she responded, voice cracked and wounded. Silence rolled in like a fog and lay heavy in the lab as Simmons did her best to keep her eyes from tearing and Leo grasped onto the edge of the counter for dear life.

"Woah. Oh shit, I walked in on something, didn't I?" The two looked up as one and Skye looked just about ready to bolt for the door when faced with teary faces and bags under the eyes. "Right. Okay. Work it out, you two. Laters," she quipped, siding out of the lab, laptop balanced in her hands.

Silence hung by a thread between them. Idle fingers twisted and turned at the hem of a sweater, blue eyes followed the movements as the thread slowly began to fray.

Silence fell to the ground and shattered between them and they both spoke at once.

"Sorry-"

"I'm sorry." Simmons let out a soft sigh and glanced up at her partner. He gave her weak smile and lifted his arms slightly, offering.

She practically ran into them.

They stood there for a moment, holding each other, until Jemma mumbled something into his chest.

"What?" Smiling, she pulled back a bit.

"I'd make you promise never to do something that stupid again, but I could never make that promise myself," she whispered. He nodded slowly.

"How about we promise to talk about it first? No more fire extinguishers and last-minute plan changes." She tilted her head a bit and nodded, tucking herself a little tighter into his embrace than before.

They stayed like that, comforting one and other.

(That is, until Skye wandered into the lab with a bullhorn, repeating "PDA, PDA alert" in a monotone voice with the sound of sirens playing on her laptop behind her. But that's another story.)


	5. Theory 5: Illusion

Leo wandered into the lab, doors opening with a light _hiss_. Jemma smiled and stood, reaching out to steady him by his arm.

"'M fine, Jemma, 's nothin'," he murmured softly, but didn't try to push her off. A glance admonished him and he sighed, letting her help him to the stool. Her fingers moved to his as they settled, her on the seat beside him and their fingers tangled together.

"Fitz, I want you to answer me honestly-"

"I will," he interrupted with a light sigh.

"How are you feeling?" There was a lengthy pause between the two of them as she gently ran her thumb over the back of his hand, eyes posing her question in a soft light.

"I'm-"

"You promised." She cut in, eyes flashing now. _Maybe Skye's onto something with the telepathy_, whispered a little voice in his head. A huff of defeat flew from his lips.

"M' arm aches a touch an' 'm a bi' sore. That's it. I swear," he told her. She let out a long breath, ever so slightly rolling her eyes, but before she could reprimand him, the resident mercenary walked through the lab doors.

"Fitz." The voice was cold, hard, and Leo didn't like it one bit. Not even stopping to address his partner, the ice-cold killer grunted out, "The Director sent me to retrieve the file."

"File?" he and Simmons quipped at the same time.

"Oh, the new file, about the ICER 2.0," interjected the biochemist.

"Right, we have it here," added Fitz, reaching for the manila folder. Gentle fingers assisted his own, layering his grip and lifting the folder without the usual shakes. Holding it out, he began to ramble on the various improvements, the improved speed of the bullets, the better blast pattern from new capsules, the loss of an ounce, so on and so forth.

"That's… nice," rumbled the man before him, in an obvious state of indifference edged with a thin line of irritation.

"Let's let the nice man go," Jemma said in the breathy voice she reserved for her nerves.

"Alright, then, here." The proffered folder was taken with stiff, jerky movements, and with a nod, the assassin strode from the room.

"Well, he was quite the social butterfly," scoffed the engineer.

"I know," Jemma sighed. "It was as if I wasn't even here." Leo practically snorted. She was right-their new team member had looked through Jemma like she wasn't even there, like she didn't exist, like-

A pit opened in his gut. In fact, nobody had recently. The team had breezed over his partner for the last few days, only the occasional kind, gentle comment from Skye. Mind racing, he sprinted through the facts. Skye only spoke to her when he pointed Jemma out. Her tone was light, but her smile never fully reached her eyes, like a mother telling her child that yes, of course Santa exists, but knowing the lie deep within.

Hands slammed against the counter-tops and he heard the clatter of metal on itself as his projects shook.

"Fitz? Leo, Leo, what's wrong?" she cried, running to him, hands resting on his arm, gentle on tensed muscles.

"Don' you _get it_, Jemma? Don't y' _realize_? Chris'," he swore, running his good hand through his hair.

"Fitz?" she asks softly. He didn't respond. "Leo?"

"_You're only in m' head!_" he screams at her, spinning around, throwing her hands from the limb. "You're a copin' mechanism, y-y-y' _left_, Jemma, left for some mission 'n dinna come home!" The words stabbed in his gut, the truth a painful splinter embedded in his flesh. He glanced at her, saw the tears filling bleary eyes, running down her face.

"Don' y' notice?" he asked, whisper-soft. "Nobody else talks t' you. Nobody even _looks_ at y', Jem, an' you're amazin'. Nobody could ever do that." There was a pause, and her fingers retreated from his arm. He glanced up, and she was gently wiping tears from rosy cheeks, a small shake in delicate shoulders.

"So where do we go from here?" Her voice was hitching in her throat, choked, pained, and he hated it. It tore into him like a rusted blade, and he could feel the blood rushing from the wound. He closed his eyes and pressed a fist to the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, Jems."

Silence.

And when he looked up, she was gone.


End file.
